


Christmas Traditions: 1960

by blackangus



Category: Peter Gunn (TV 1958)
Genre: 1960s, 31 days of christmas, Christmas, Christmas Tree, December 1960, Established Relationship, F/M, Humor, Romance, Season 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27853490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackangus/pseuds/blackangus
Summary: This is a series of short Christmas-themed ficlets involving Peter Gunn and Edie Hart. All the action takes place during December 1960. This series is my own personal Christmas Challenge to myself. Hopefully there will be 31 entries, one for each day of the month.
Relationships: Peter Gunn/Edie Hart





	1. Thursday, December 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing and make no profit.

Edie Hart brushed snow from several boughs of a handsome Fraser fir she'd discovered in a corner of the Christmas tree lot farthest from the street. It had been propped upright to lean against the dark red brick wall of the hardware store that hosted the lot each year.

"This is a nice one."

She pulled off one red knit glove and touched the nearest twig, delighting in the feel of the soft dark green needles that brought back so many childhood memories.

"It's big enough to hold your ornaments and mine both, plus those Mama sent after Papa cleaned out the attic last month. We can stop at Chadwick's on the way home for lights and tinsel - " She smiled at the tall dark-haired man who came to stand next to her. "We need a tree stand, too. Can you think of anything else?" She put her glove back on.

"How about a smaller tree?" Peter Gunn's gaze raked the tree from top to bottom. "This thing must be eight feet tall. Even if we managed to get it upstairs in the elevator there wouldn't be room for it in the living room. How about this one?" He reached for a smaller tree of the same type, about six feet tall with beautifully spaced branches. They'd have to drive home with the top down but at least the tree would fit in the car. He walked across to the convertible and lowered the top, leaving Edie to guard the tree, then motioned to one of the kids who was manning the lot.

"Why are you in such a hurry to put up a tree anyway?" The PI reached into his pants pocket for some paper bills attached to a money clip. He handed the required dollar amount to the teenage son of the proprietor and he and Edie waited as the tree was tied to better fit into the back seat of the Plymouth Fury. "Today's only the first of the month. I remember as a kid that Mom never wanted Pop to put ours up until Christmas Eve. She said it took away from the meaning of the season to have it up any earlier."

"I know, Mama and Papa were the same way. Mama always had the other decorations up early but the tree had to- Pete?" She touched his arm and he turned to face her fully, his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he tried to keep them warm.

"Yes, dear heart?" His voice was a low rumble.

"Do you realize this will be our first _real_ Christmas, Pete?"

"How do you figure that?" His blue gaze admired the blonde curls peeking from beneath the knit cap that matched her gloves. The medium-length white wool coat she wore was accentuated by the accessories and reminded him of candy canes and peppermints.

"Our first Christmas you didn't have a tree at all and I had that stick in a pot that sat on my coffee table. I managed to get six ornaments on it and they bent the puny little twigs almost in half." She gave him a reminiscent smile. "A lot of good things happened that Christmas. We spent time together and I met some of your friends. I learned new things about you and it was the first time I talked to Pop. But then it was over. After you took me to work the next evening you ended up with a client clamoring for your attention and I was back at my own apartment. I felt very lonesome there. I remember wishing Christmas had lasted longer and I missed you." She laughed softly. "And I think that was when I really began hating the sound of the telephone ringing because odds were there was someone on the other end of the line who was going to steal my time with you."

Pete pulled his hands from his pockets, circling his arms around her waist as he leaned in to place a kiss on the tip of her nose. It was a cold nose, and her cheeks were a rosy pink from the chill of a light breeze.

"And last year..."

Edie didn't like thinking of the previous year's Christmas. Pete had been in jail, arrested early that December after being framed for murder. Even to this day she wasn't sure how she'd made it through the holiday. Everything had been a blur at the time and remained so to this day. Maybe her subconscious was trying to protect her from any feelings that might arise if she dwelled on it too much.

"...last year there wasn't anything to celebrate," she finished.

"Yet here we are." The man's lips tilted in an affectionate smile. "But none of that really answers my question. Why so early with the tree?"

"I guess I want to make up for those times." She reached a gloved hand to the side of his face and returned his smile. "For the Christmas that was too short and for the Christmas that never was. This year everything is perfect. I want to celebrate it as long as possible. I want it to start earlier and last longer than any Christmas I've ever had."

This time the kiss found her lips, slow and lazy, their breaths mingling foggily in the icy winter air. The couple eventually drew apart at the sound of someone close by clearing his throat. Pete glanced over Edie's shoulder to find their teen-aged helper standing awkwardly and trying not to stare.

"I loaded the tree into your car, Mr. Gunn."

"Thanks, Terry." The PI reached into his pants pocket again and handed the boy a folded five dollar bill. "Merry Christmas."

"Gee, thanks, Mr. Gunn!" A big grin lit his freckled face and he carefully placed the cash in his inside jacket pocket, another customer beckoning him from across the lot. "I made sure not to scratch anything or poke any holes in the upholstery," came to them over his shoulder as he hurried away.

"Come on, Silly." Pete's arm around her waist ushered Edie through the snow to the car. "Let's get this thing home and save the rest of the shopping for tomorrow."

"I still have a few hours before I need to be at the club." She grinned at him as he slid behind the wheel. "Maybe we can think of some other ways to start celebrating early."

"Start our own Christmas tradition?"

She answered with a sly wink and tapped the side of her nose.

They made it home in record time.

The tree could wait until tomorrow, too...


	2. Friday, December 2

Peter Gunn released a deep sigh, hoping it was mostly in his mind and not loud enough for Edie Hart to hear from where she stood at the other side of the living room. They had chosen to place the Christmas tree in the corner between the fireplace and the big glass doors leading out to the small patio. The Fraser fir, a masterpiece of dark green with a shimmer of silvery light green throughout, embraced the airy space with its outstretched branches and woodsy aroma. Unfortunately it preferred a rightward tilt in the tree stand.

"How's that?" He waited for another set of instructions - something in the way of _"turn_ _it_ _a little_ _more_ _to_ _the right_ _and lean_ _it forward_ _about two inches_... _now_ _tilt_ _it to_ _the left_... _maybe if_ _you_ _fan_ _out the branches,_ _it_ _looks thinner_ _than_ _it did_ _at the_ _Christmas_ _tree_ _lot... move_ _it_ _another six_ _inches_ _toward_ _the fireplace._. _."_ \- but they never came.

"It's perfect!" Edie smiled delightedly. She crossed the room and slipped her arm around the PI's waist, her other hand coming to rest on his chest.

"You're sure?" Pete raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Of course I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be sure? It's perfect, honey."

"It was also perfect an hour ago," Pete teased. "And two hours ago after I lugged it in from the laundry room and set it up over by the coffee bar." He rubbed his left side and winced and uttered an almost convincing groan of pain. "I think I feel a hernia coming on."

"Idiot." She poked him in the same spot. "Come on. Let's start on the decorations."

Earlier that morning following breakfast at Stanley's, a favorite diner just up the street from the apartment, they'd headed for Chadwick's, arriving just as the large department store opened. They had quickly found the Christmas tree stand they needed, as well as a green and red tree skirt, a big package of tinsel, several boxes of multicolored lights, an angel tree topper and a box of hooks to hang the ornaments. The only thing they hadn't found was individual ornaments. Boxes of six, ten, twelve, and even twenty-four shiny balls were abundant, but no single items. They ended up getting those at a small mom-and-pop store located at the north end of River Street. Now all the decorations, both old and new, were laid out on the sofa, each item awaiting its place on the tree.

Pete managed to get the multiple strings of lights wrapped around the top of the tall fir with a little help from Edie, and around the bottom with more help than he wanted from Thomas. The little feline, which Pete had given to Edie more than two years prior, had suddenly appeared from nowhere at the rustle of shopping bags and packing paper. After providing all the aid he deemed necessary he crawled into an empty box and promptly went back to sleep.

Edie plugged in the lights and they waited with baited breath for the big bulbs to come to life, Pete mentally kicking himself for not testing them beforehand. They flickered briefly, and then again, then finally stayed on, the blue, yellow, orange, green, red and white colors brightening the room.

Their personal ornaments were hung next, each piece finding the ideal bough in which to nestle or from which to dangle. For the most part the couple worked in companionable silence. If a bauble had a backstory - who it had originally belonged to, who had gifted it, why it had been purchased - it was related in muted conversation, evoking memories of bygone days.

"Every year Mama bought one new ornament for me and one for Jeff, until each of us was twelve years old." Edie held up a small lamb for Pete to see, its white paint fading to reveal silvered aluminum. "She got this for my first Christmas." She slipped a hook into place and attached the decoration to an upper branch.

"This one belonged to my Grandma Rose." Pete showed her a multicolored bird made from handblown mercury glass. "Pop's brother Benjamin gave it to her for Christmas in 1917, just before he shipped out to France. He was killed in the Battle of Belleau Wood. He's still over there, buried at the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery." His lips tilted in a half smile as he clipped the ornament to a sturdy twig. "Pop says I resemble him but I wouldn't know."

"That's so sad, Pete," Edie murmured.

"I'm told he was a very handsome young man," the PI teased, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"I know. Here - "

Pete grabbed up the items they'd purchased at the mom-and-pop store, three small boxes, two slightly smaller than the third. He picked one and handed it to her, watching as she lifted the lid and carefully removed a deep red, spherical glass ornament. On one side - if a round object had sides - was a pastoral scene of cedar trees, snowflakes and a bright star, the images stenciled on with a frosty substance that resembled snow. On the other side was one word stenciled in the same manner. JOY. Edie had chosen it to represent their first Christmas. Short as their time together had been that Christmas, it had been joy-filled.

The second box held a similar ornament in a dark blue matte color. One side featured two lit candles embraced by a cluster of holly leaves. The opposite side proclaimed the word HOPE. They had chosen it together to represent the Christmas that never was.

At Edie's urging Pete had selected the decoration for this year. After much deliberation he picked a cone-shaped Santa Claus bell made of porcelain. Santa held a sign that read 'Merry Christmas' and the bell had an actual ceramic clapper that allowed it to be rung. And completely by happenstance he discovered Mrs. Claus on a shelf nearby. She held a sign proclaiming 'Peace and Goodwill'. As the proprietor had gently wrapped them in newspaper to fit into one larger box, Edie had asked Pete why he decided to get both. He'd winked and somberly replied, "They'd be lost without each other. Just like I'd be lost without you."

Pete looked on as Edie almost reverently placed the ornaments in what she declared were their perfect spots on the tree, making sure Mr. and Mrs. Claus were next to each other. Afterwards he placed the topper on the uppermost twig that extended vertically toward the ceiling and then together they tossed the silver tinsel to fall lightly among the branches. Finally they stepped back to admire a new Christmas tradition.

"Merry Christmas, dear heart."

Edie leaned back into her lover's embrace, his arms encircling her waist from behind as he placed a kiss in the gentle curve between her neck and shoulder.

"Merry Christmas, Pete..."


	3. Saturday, December 3

Leslie dropped the telephone receiver into place and took a quick glance through several pages of the reservation book. Dressed handsomely in his ubiquitous black suit and tie, a fresh white carnation tucked into the buttonhole of his left lapel, he flashed a dimpled smile at his employer.

"Edie's is totally booked for both the 22nd and the 23rd." Those were the final two days the supper club would be open before Christmas. A luncheon was being provided on-site for the employees and their families on Christmas Eve. "And there are only a handful of tables available during that entire week. It looks to be quite a successful holiday season, Miss Hart, considering the club has been open a scant two months. You have every reason to be very proud of yourself. It often takes years for an establishment to garner such a loyal clientele, yet December has barely begun and the entire month is almost booked."

"I'm proud of all of us, Leslie." Edie gave his arm a squeeze. "None of this would have been possible without you and Chef, the wait staff, the kitchen staff - " She sent a bright smile toward the bar. " - Mr. O'Brien - "

The entryway door burst open, ushering in a gusty stream of cold air followed by a tall, dark and handsome man who quickly pushed the door shut behind himself.

" - And Mr. Gunn, of course." The maitre d's eyebrows rose high on his forehead and he tried to restrain a smile at the sight of the the private investigator, whose appearance was oddly disheveled and his face marred by an expression of irritation.

"Pete! Honey, you look frozen - "

"Mr. Gunn, I feel I must point out that you're dripping on the carpet."

"Where's your coat?" Edie pulled him further into the room, absently offering a half-smile and a pleasant good evening to a group of four as they passed by on their way out, leaving just one table occupied at five minutes past the club's official closing time.

"Somewhere in a cold dark alley between Beacon Avenue and Howell Street."

While the PI blew on his hands and rubbed them together briskly to try to infuse some warmth into them, Edie grabbed a towel from a nearby table and brushed the moisture from his clothing.

"Beacon- but isn't that across the river, Pete? What were you doing over there? And is this snow on your jacket?" Small grainy white flakes were sprinkled over his charcoal gray suit and mussed black hair.

"Yes - trying to get myself killed helping Lieutenant Jacoby - and yes. It started coming down about an hour ago, regardless of what the weatherman said." He relieved her of the towel and wiped the back of his neck, then gratefully accepted a mug of hot coffee that Leslie pushed toward him.

"Are you all right, Pete?" Edie frowned at a dark bruise near his right eye.

"Sure I am." He tossed the towel aside and handed the empty mug back to the maitre d'. "Cold, wet and aggravated, but fine."

"Miss Hart, perhaps you'd like to accompany Mr. Gunn home. There's really not much more to do here this evening." Leslie's all-knowing gaze drifted between the two and he produced another dimpled smile as the pretty blonde readily accepted his offer. "We'll see you Monday afternoon then," he nodded genially, and waited with the PI while the woman hurried to her dressing room and returned with her coat.

Edie pulled on her gloves as they took the steps down to the sidewalk, thankful for the grip of Pete's hand at her elbow when they stepped off the curb. The snow was falling thickly and heavily now, no longer the little crystals that had adorned the PI's suit, and ice was forming where the first flakes had melted upon reaching the ground. His arm found her waist as he steered her carefully across the street toward his car. Halfway there she came to an abrupt halt, closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky.

"Isn't it wonderful, Pete?"

"Wonderful," he agreed, admiring her pink cheeks and soft smile.

"And beautiful," she said, opening her eyes.

He followed her gaze. The snow was indeed beautiful, the flakes large and fluffy now. Driven by the wind, it resembled a thick white curtain against the bright yellow of the streetlights, elsewhere swirling in corners and blowing horizontally along flat surfaces. Christmas decorations and colored lights were beginning to go up on the storefronts, businesses and apartment buildings along the street, more visible this night than there had been the night before. The pinkish neon that advertised Edie's smiled down upon them and further down the street the big marquee of the movie house brightened the entire block it occupied, large letters advertising a matinee and late evening double feature of the holiday classics _It's_ _a_ _Wonderful_ _Life_ and _The_ _Shop_ _Around_ _the Corner_. But it was the woman beside him who earned his attention.

"Beautiful."

Pete caught her gaze and leaned in and kissed her, suddenly not minding the cold wind and his damp clothes, warmed instead by the heat generated by their proximity. His kiss was hungry, his arms tight around her, their embrace ending only when the sound of an automobile horn reminded them they were standing in the middle of the street. The car passed and Edie reached a gloved hand to touch the bruise on his cheek.

"You must not be _too_ beat up if you can kiss like that," she smiled.

"You bring out the best in me," he admitted, grabbing her hand as they headed for the Plymouth Fury parked at the corner.

"I'm glad," Edie chuckled. "Oh, Pete! Did you remember the wreaths?"

He had, how could he forget? She'd reminded him at least half a dozen times that the hangers had been installed on the double front doors of the club and that Mona at the hardware store said he could pick up the wreaths at his convenience. Which he'd done. He told her they were in the trunk and he'd quickly hang them while she got in the car. Edie watched through the driver-side window as he did just that, the pretty green of the wreaths visible even through the falling snow.

As he pointed the car in the direction of home, Pete gave an appreciative glance at the woman seated beside him, silently meditating on just how much that word had come to mean to him over the past few years. _Home._ She must have felt his eyes on her because she lifted her own and searched his face, her smile widening as though she was reading his mind.

"Let's go home, Pete..."


End file.
